Tales of Eternity
by Lyon Falenas
Summary: Many crave the True runes for power or for the opportunity to live forever. However, eternal life brings it's own situations and ordeals. Chapter 3: Luc plays witness to another war and wonders if man's fate is truly its own.
1. To Lay in Waiting

_Disclaimer: I do not own Suikoden as I am not a part of Konami. I can only wish._

_Basically this is going to be a little series that will be on the side of another Suikoden idea that is going to be absolutely huge. Anybody interested in assisting me in beta reading that one can drop a line to me or visit my livejournal link at http://lyon-falenas. this one is basically taking into account the consequences of the eternal youth of bearing the true runes. It will span all of the games and you can pretty much guess what characters will be involved just based on the theme. But I find these fun to write because of the obvious opportunities._

**To Lay in Waiting**

Stirring the pot, Gremio paused for a moment to taste the meal he was creating. He let the warm liquid sit in his mouth for a moment and savored the taste. Satisfied, he prepared two bowls, knowing that Tir would come in after a day of fishing and not having eaten throughout the day.

It was a peculiar hobby that had been picked up after the war. It wasn't as though Tir had any great appetite for fishing; on the contrary, he didn't care for the taste of many fish and rarely ate any of his catches. Nevertheless, he went out nearly every day shortly after dawn and returned at sunset itht eh appetite of a teenager.

Of course physically, Tir still was a teenager.

The thought turned Gremio's attention to his own hands, deep wrinkles and brown spots showing the changes of forty years since the Gate Rune wars and Tir's inheritance of one of the twenty-seven true runes. He had died in that war only to be revived through a means that was never explained to him.

It had changed the young man who used to tug at his ears while he tended to the evening meal and complained about his father being sent off to battle and leaving him behind. Afterward he had chosen to isolate himself from society, wandering from town to town throughout Toran and Dunan and leaving before he could find himself involved.

Gremio always suspected that it had something to do with the rune of life and death, the Souleater. While some thought of the rune as a sign of power, it was obvious that to Tir it was a burden, one that he was willing to take rather than to pass along to someone else. He never told Gremio about the impact it had, but it was apparent when he slept, the nightmares causing endless tossing and turning and bleary eyes the next day.

For the first couple decades, Gremio accompanied him faithfully, supportive of his young master's decision even if he did wish he could return to Gregminster. However, he didn't leave, knowing that at that time if he did there was no telling if he would ever think to return home. At Gremio's prodding they occasionally made a trip to the home of his youth before setting out once again.

It was one day, nearly twenty days after the war ended that much pent up frustration was finally released. Gremio couldn't remember what had prompted the incident or what was said that far into the past. He only knew that decades of frustration and anger was released and all he could do was hold his young master tight and assure him that he would not leave him anytime soon.

However, while Tir, still not aged a day past seventeen, had all the time in the world, age reared it's ugly head. It was first the knees. Walking more than half a day caused problems, finally leading to it being difficult to last more than an hour without needing a break. His back also began protesting years of abuse. His old weapon, the heavy hatchet was retired, only a small knife kept for the occasional animal that wandered by. But those were the signs that his time adventuring was finally up.

Ultimately it was Tir who had made that decision upon returning home for several weeks. He had disappeared during the night leaving a simple note.

_Gremio, you don't need to protect me anymore. I'm going to be fine. Just rest for now and take care of the house. I will come back eventually._

Cleo and Pahn had long since moved on to other matters and Gremio found it hard to reestablish ties to people after so many years of traveling. This was made easier as the visits to the old manor in Gregminster became more frequent. Tir claimed it was due to his missing Gremio's cooking. Whether it was the truth or not didn't truly matter and it offered both of them much needed company. For those few days that Tir was home, the two talked, no longer as a master and servant but as old friends.

His hair had only started to thin and turn white at that time, making Gremio realize just how long ago it had been since he had settled down. The entire crown of his head was bald now and what remained was pure white. His face had become wrinkled, making him look as though he could not be the grandfather of the person he was preparing the meal for. It wasn't unreasonable considering that he was now in his seventies that he could have had a teenage grandson.

"Gremio? Is dinner almost ready?" a voice called out from the open door. 

Turning, the old man smiled, "Just about. It's been simmering long enough by now, so it should be quite good."

Gremio, hobbled slightly as he reached for the bowl, his legs giving him a noticeable limp. His hands shook slightly from the weight of the heavy ceramic bowls, prompting Tir to rush over and wordlessly take them, pointing Gremio to the nearby chair.

It was nothing out of the ordinary, simply the signs of age, but Gremio felt a bit disheartened at being instructed to sit down and let him be served. It was something that he had never had happen before. "You really don't need to help."

"Gremio, just relax. You cooked this so I might as well be somewhat useful."

Giving in, he made several steps toward the old wooden chairs that had been in the house since Teo was still alive. Halfway across the room though a sharp pain raced through Gremio's chest, causing him to double over, a moment later hitting the ground.

Dropping the bowl on the ground with the shatter of it breaking, Tir rushed to his friend's side, eyes wide with fear. "Gremio? What happened? Are you okay?"

He couldn't answer, his breaths becoming more forced and the pain unrelenting. He tried to focus his eyes on Tir as he was turned onto his back. He could see the tears welling up in the young appearing man's eyes from behind the dark strands of hair threatening to hide them.

"Gremio? Please answer me!"

His vision starting to go hazy as he fought to remain conscious, Gremio realized that this was most likely his final day. All he could do was lay and wait as he saw the person he tended to as a child break down. Feeling his hand squeezed he weakly returned the gesture, the best he could manage.

"I'll get you to a doctor! You'll be okay!" came the shouts of worry.

But no, he would not be okay. He wasn't scared. He wanted to say so much, to assure his long time friend that he was at peace. "Tir..." he muttered weakly, forcing himself to smile in reassurance. He couldn't say anything else as his eyes finally closed.

Realizing what had happened, Tir grabbed Gremio's body in his arms, sobbing forcefully. His one companion, and only friend was truly gone. Now he knew how Ted must have felt over those Three hundred years. It had been painful enough to watched the person he cared about the most age through the years and to witness the changes every time he returned. Yet only now did he realize the pain involved in watching a beloved person not just grow old but to die and for him to remain unchanged through the years.

The rune was a bringer of great power and was sought by many for that purpose. Tir couldn't understand who would want to be in his situation currently. In this moment, the rune seemed like the greatest burden that a human being could endure. He was a cursed man.

Tir only stayed long enough to give Gremio a proper burial, his remains resting in a quaint forest not far outside of the town. By that time, all the tears possible had been shed and the young man, on his back, carried only a few sets of clothing and his beaten up old staff. He had no intent of ever returning to that house now that he didn't have anything or anybody to return to. 

There would be no other time. It was an internal vow to prevent anybody from getting close again. If the rune didn't take them then time would. And he would be forced to witness their demise all with the face of a boy not even past adolescence.

Even if his looked betrayed him, he felt so old and not even a lifetime had past on his part. He didn't look forward to the potentially many more that would come.


	2. To Grow Old Slowly By Your Side

_Disclaimer: Konami owns Suikoden and if I worked for them I would have gone into a very different career path than I have now._

_This wasn't intended to be the second portion of this one, but I didn't want another Souleater one immediately (yeah yeah, the whole variety thing) and wanted something that was a bit um... less depressing anyway. Although a lot of these are going to revolve around death and mortality but I want them to not be all entirely sad stories. _

**To Grow Old Slowly By Your Side**

"You're being foolish, all over a couple gray hairs!" a blond haired woman said, her arms folded in front of her and pouting. Her husband was overreacting to what was purely natural as someone ages.

Putting a hand through his hair, Nash gave his best puppy eyes, knowing that it was his best hope to deal with his wife's harsh nature. Of course even then it seldom worked as she often worked to get her way and succeeded. "Oh come on... it wouldn't be the first time that you fed on me."

Pushing him on her bed, Sierra teased him, bringing her fangs ever so close to his neck, letting them nip slightly at the flesh. It was tempting as she hadn't fed in awhile, but her intent was to make him squirm. If he was playing one of his usual games with her, she would make sure he regretted it.

Feeling his body react to her close proximity, he gulped, trying not to lose his focus. She had that way with him. All she had to do was glare just right or to touch him in certain places and his mind seemed to leave him. Feeling her tongue trace his neck, he moaned slightly and stammered, "I... I'm serious Sierra... oh does that feel good."

She turned his face toward her, looking into his baby blue eyes. "Why are you so eager to become a vampire? When I first met you you would have tossed me off of you right now and tried to get me to sleep elsewhere."

He remembered those days quite well. She had been nearly impossible to tolerate and he found great joy in antagonizing her. Back then he had considered it payback for her antics. It was a fuzzy barrier when their relationship turned into something more. Nash assumed it was in part because of what she was doing right now; centuries of life had given her a good understanding of what a man's body felt and how to drive him absolutely wild.

When he didn't give her an answer, she pouted, her bottom lip protruding slightly and her blood red eyes narrowing slightly. Watching her heavy lidded lover, she made another motion, leaning heavily over him, letting him support much of her small body. Nash was never quiet for too long with her. He could try, but she tended to get what she desired.

Gulping slightly, Nash felt as though he was a teenager again, his hormones making sure he knew exactly what she was doing even if he wanted to ignore. "Come on, " he said, "it's romantic isn't it? We can be together for centuries. It's not like you are going to put up with an old man like me anyway. I'll be old, feeble and useless."

In a rare tender moment, Sierra brushed her husband's head, her expression softening. She could tell when he was being honest and when he was merely trying to gt a reaction out of her. The tone to his voice was soft and almost wistful. It was understandable considering their situation. While she had eternal life, that didn't hold true to her husband. While disease nor age could touch her, he was already middle aged, and it showed in his features. Contrary to the beliefs, most vampires were not eternal and did age and die at a much slower rate than humans. But without passing on her gift, one day he would truly become old and die.

She would never outright admit it to him that she would miss him. They often bickered and accused one another of playing the field while the other was way for various reasons. Sierra even liked to try to admit to herself that she only thought of him as her toy. Of course she had had many of them over the centuries, but not once prior to him had she taken vows of marriage. "So you're really serious about this?" she finally responded.

Nodding, he explained himself further, "I never really did see the whole appeal to the living on and on. When I was young I figured whatever happens will happen. My time will come when it does. Then I figured you'd end up being the death of me... I guess things change over time huh?"

He truly wanted this. It was something he had considered as he knew that there were certain consequences. He was dedicating himself to not just a lifetime with this woman. Even though she was pushy and impulsive, he couldn't imagine anything else. "And this really has nothing to do with the white hairs," he added.

"Ah, so you say." she said, running her hands over his bare chest and leaving the slight markings where her nails pressed slightly into the flesh. "You're telling me you don't care about your looks anymore? That's not very likely."

Nash couldn't help but chuckle at her observation. "Oh and you're any better? Aren't you the one who outright admits that your looks have gotten you everything you wanted in life."

Leaning toward his face and giving a brief kiss she smirked with cockiness in her eyes. "They have... You're still here and even begging me to turn you right now."

"Not begging..."Nash explained, his hands reaching up to roam across his wife's body. "If you really don't to we can just forget."

"Just relax."

They engaged in a long, passionate kiss, their usual competition for dominance as their tongues met and intertwined. Their bodies remained close together as Sierra made a movement for his neck. She rarely fed on humans as it was unnecessary with her rune. It instead was often a test of her charm on others who often gave in willingly. Now her feeding had a separate purpose.

She didn't fully understand why he wanted this. Neither of them appeared to be the type to be committed to anybody for any length of time. They both claimed to not care as much about the other than they truly did. Yet she couldn't bring herself to say no, because it did make sense. For at least some time she would have a long term partner. Charming random men didn't give that.

The moment her teeth sank into his vein, Nash uttered a slight noise, not quite a grunt nor moan. He'd been fed upon before, but he hadn't been prepared. The instance of the bite stung greatly, but it took hardly any time before the wound went numb and the strange sensation came as his blood was drained. He was numb yet fully aware of the sheets beneath him and the feeling of her arm laying across him. He was lightheaded but fully aware of his wife and the room surrounding him. Soon, as the blood loss hit him, his breaths started becoming shallow and quicker in pace. It was then that he realized the rune she bore had begun to glow.

Novels for centuries had made wild assumptions of how vampires came to be in the world. Most were sensationalized for the sake of pleasing an audience. Rarely did any make any inroads to understanding the phenomenon in their writing. It was easy to deduce that since vampires were tied to the Blue Moon rune that it would be involved with turning a human. Of course it wasn't as hough Sierra was one to give out her secrets.

By the time the task was complete, the rune had dimmed and gone into resting once more, Nash sleeping quietly. He probably would for quite some time as his body adjusted to its new situation. Content, Sierra gave her husband a kiss, the taste of his blood still lingering on her tongue. Satisfied for now, she pulled the heavy comforter over the both of them. The two of them could sleep the night away as always. And now, there would be quite a number more of these mornings together.


	3. Witness to Tears

_Disclaimer: If I were to be involved with Konami on making Suikoden I would not be writing this and would probably have to be male and Japanese anyway. _

_Oh and this is one that I had started quite awhile ago and picked up again to finish it. I admit I hate Luc for the most part in the games considering his attitude is about as refined as a sewer rat, but if doing things with the rune bearers he is an interesting one to do. Much of my interpretation actually comes not from the games but from the manga for the third game which offers a bit more human view of Luc toward the end as well as a real motive beyond simply being crazy. _

**Witness to Tears**

The cool breeze was pleasant from the roof of the fortress town in North Window. Gradually the lights in nearby windows went out as the ragtag army retired for the evening with only the torches of the night watch indicating that there was life once again in the dead town. Of course, it wasn't as though he belonged to any of it. Had he not been ordered by his master he wouldn't have a part in anything and instead of enjoying the night on a patch-job roof repair, he would undoubtedly be in the Magician's tower, most likely reading a book in the window until whatever ungodly hour his body finally protested.

But he was here and while it appeared that things were ending soon, it was not a guarantee. Luc knew he needed to accept the small pleasures at his disposal. It was with a sigh that he stood and returned down the old creaky stairs toward his station at the stone tablet.

Going down he couldn't avoid passing the room that had been converted for Riou. The weeping sounds could be heard through the slightly cracked wooden door along with Shu, Apple and a girl all attempting to comfort him. Hearing the leader in such a pitiful position caused him to pause and to listen.

"_Say something Riou"_

"_Riou, you need to pull yourself together. We need your leadership in the next battle."_

"_...Nanami's dead because of this. I should have listened to her wanting to leave."_

"_It's understandable to grieve for your sister but the country is more important right now. We are on the verge of winning."_

"_So? Anybody could do this. I'm not that special. You're a better leader than me Shu."_

"_Riou, don't speak like that. Things will be okay eventually. We are all worried."_

"_Thank you Ellie, I mean that. It just hurts. I wanted to protect her..."_

"_I know..."_

Why had Leknaat subjected him to this? It was too much like the last time only with a father and a servant rather than a sister and best friend. She had said that it was important for him to be involved to observe these conflicts. For some reason she seemed to find worth in pointless wars and the devastation it brought. Two conflicts had brought more than a lifetime's worth of torture in Luc's mind. And it was all because of the runes.

Unconsciously he clenched his right hand into a fist, cursing the rune he held there. All they seemed to bring was genocide either through their power or man attempting to harness a power that was above them. It lacked any purpose. He wished at times that he could just dispose of his rune and let everyone else see beyond mankind's petty wars and what the rune saw as an inevitable future. Would they continue to fight knowing that what lied ahead was an ashen wasteland devoid of life? Would they be so eager to have nightmares of the rune's past to keep them awake at night?

"_No more..."_

"_Huh?"  
"I'm tired of people dying. Is there even a point?"_

The rune was what was causing that poor boy to suffer and cry in futility. The curse of the runes seemed to bring tragedy to their masters in some form or another. Never was it a matter of if but rather when. He knew well the suffering that was brought in those long years spent confined to the damp cell somewhere in the cellars of the temple in Harmonia.

Those first seven or eight years of his life were not ones he wished to relive with any cost. It consisted of endless days staring at walls and using magic as his only entertainment. The only human interaction consisted of his mealtimes in which someone would simply toss scraps of food at him before immediately turning away without a word. Nobody spoke to him and thus his speech consisted of what he had heard in dreams as the rune bestowed its past onto him. He had questioned the reasoning back then only to wish that by some miracle something would happen that would either give him his freedom, or his death.

In many ways Leknaat was his savior. But it didn't change his development into an antisocial person. Luc knew that things may have been different if he was given a proper upbringing with a normal family and without a rune. There had been many occasions where he dreamed up a normal life; one with a mother, father and perhaps a couple siblings, one who wasn't a puppet of Harmonia. Sometimes the illusion he created for himself was great enough to the point where he could swear he smelled home cooking or could feel himself kiss a girl on the cheek. Eventually he would be drawn back though to the life that was and with the sight of the bare stone walls of the tower, he could feel his heart harden a but more.

Despite being only seventeen years old, his heart was already too hardened to bring up those kind images anymore, his heart refusing to be hurt any further. While most thought of him as cruel, that coldness was the only way to truly cope with the days of solitude that separated the rare visitor to the tower.

"_Get some sleep Riou. It's been a long day."_

Hearing the boy crying in the next room, Luc could hardly help but to be grateful for his own distance from his fellow human beings. It seemed better, more efficient to try to avoid emotions as they tended to be mostly negative feelings. The sound alone and the pain that was so obvious from that boy as well as the last one tore at him enough to never wish the full brunt of it himself. It didn't matter how good someone was or what intentions they have for their fellow man... either living was a series of tragedies or the runes truly did relish in human destruction.

"_Who's next? Will I have to go against Jowy and kill him too?"_

"_It is a possibility. Just remember you are doing this for the good of the people here."_

"_Shu! Don't worry Riou, we'll find some way to end this without hurting Jowy."_

The worst part is the idea that this would not be the last time he would have to play a witness to this. Every time the 108 stars of destiny would form, he would be sent out and forced to witness a hapless rune bearer get torn apart in a war that was above them. It was hardly what his intention was in life.

If only there was a way to defy such a fate. Most wars revolved around the runes... there had to be a way to end that cycle. It would eliminate the need for wrecked villages and the grief of countless families. Good people wouldn't have to suffer while those with selfish intents sat on top of thrones making chess moves.

"_I hope so. I really hate funerals."_

Testing fate was a temptation, but he knew it was hardly a simple goal. Luc lacked even the simple knowledge of how much it could be done before facing the consequences. But if it ever did come to him it would be worth it to not have to hear some kid crying because their most important people were sacrificed as pawns to the runes.

"_Nanami... I am so sorry. I'm so sorry..."_

Taking care to keep his footsteps light to make his presence remain unknown, Luc hurried down a few levels and navigated his way down the torch-lit passageways toward the library. Typically he simply used the place as somewhere to hide being called out into battle or to avoid Futch and Sasuke. However, at the very least he needed to lose himself in a book of some kind. Perhaps there would be something amongst the dusty old book volumes on ways to counteract the runes. Even if there was a sacrifice, he could possibly end this useless cycle that had caught all of humanity.


End file.
